


They Call it Lonely Diggin'

by Talinor



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clubbing, M/M, Making Out, Trans rhys is implied because that's my headcanon and i'll take it to my grave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 00:35:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6216550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talinor/pseuds/Talinor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Come on Rhys,” Fiona practically draped herself over the back of his office chair. He didn’t bother to look, but he knew those green eyes were boring down at him. “You deserve a break. It’s your birthday, for Pete’s sake! Would it kill you to go out and have fun for once?"<br/>-<br/>AKA A songfic for Lone Digger by Caravan Palace</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Call it Lonely Diggin'

**Author's Note:**

> this is what i did instead of working on the outlast au chapter i hope you guys are proud. Enjoy!

“Come on Rhys,” Fiona practically draped herself over the back of his office chair. He didn’t bother to look, but he knew those green eyes were boring down at him. “You deserve a break. It’s your birthday, for Pete’s sake! Would it kill you to go out and have fun for once?”

Rhys sighed, one hand moving up from his keyboard to rub at his temple. His roommates had been bugging him about this all week. Yeah, it was his birthday today. So what? That wasn’t an excuse to skip out on his job. Sure, his boss was an asshole. Sure, he despised getting up to go to work every morning. But it paid well enough for both food and rent. That was more than enough to keep him going at it.

“You don’t even have to skip work,” Fiona told him as though she could read his thoughts. “The bar’s always open late.”

Rhys tilted his head up to look at her. “Fi, I appreciate it, but you know me and alcohol don’t mix.” Getting a hangover would only make his bland job about 5000 times worse. “I’d rather not have a hangover headache tomorrow.”

Fiona cracked a grin. He knew that look well enough by now- she’d done something. What that meant for him, he didn’t have any idea. “Who’s the best roommate in the world?”

“Vaughn?” That response got him a playful punch on the shoulder. He cracked a curious smile. “Okay okay, I might be kidding,” He raised an eyebrow. “But why do you ask?”

“Just answer the question and I’ll tell you.”

Rhys sighed. “Fine- you’re the best roommate. Now what did you do?”

“I…” Fiona trailed off with a trace of hesitation. “Let’s just say I ‘convinced’ your boss to give you tomorrow off. On a completely unrelated note, your boss might be filing a restraining order on me.”

“What?” He said incredulously. “You _threatened_ Vasquez?” On one hand, he wanted to high-five her. On the other much more likely hand, he could lose his job over this.

“It wasn’t ‘threatening,’ really.” Fiona told him matter-of-factly, using two fingers for quotations. “Sasha and I maybe-not-gently persuaded him to give you time off. That sounds a lot more legal. So, are you coming tonight?”

He took a nice, long minute to think it over. Time off didn’t sound too bad. Plus he was usually always working- the company probably wouldn’t fall apart without him for one day. Probably. And if it did, it wasn’t his fault.

“Fine,” He finally relented. “But you’re the designated driver for the night.”

Fiona simply shrugged. “I can live with that.” She moved out from the back of his chair to the entrance of his tiny cubicle. “See ya’ at 8. Don’t chicken out.” With that, she left to head to her own floor, leaving him to finally continue his work.  
+  
 _Hey, brother, what you thinking?_  
 _Leave that old record spinning_

After what’d felt like an hour searching for a spot, he parked his old yellow car. This place was apparently very popular, yet he’d never heard of it before today.  
He just hoped Sanctuary was as good as Fiona described it.

The car turned off with a slight shudder and he opened the door. Stepping out onto the rough asphalt, he took the time to observe the front of the night bar.

The sign was neon, the purple glow grabbing his attention. Even from where he was, he could hear the beat of some song he didn’t know emanating from the inside. A few small groups were flooding in, some familiar among the strangers.

_You feel the rhythm, going_   
_(They call it lonely digging)_

One familiar face stood out most to him- Fiona was leaning against the cream-colored wall, waiting for him. As if she’d felt his attention on her, she looked in his direction and smiled. She waved him over, like he wouldn’t have been able to step closer to the bar if she hadn’t. He wasn’t afraid, not in the slightest bit.

…Okay, that might’ve been a lie. But he wasn’t really scared per se, just the slightest bit nervous. Who knew what kind of people hung out here? He’d seen a guy who looked like he could snap a semi-truck in half walk in alongside a fiery-haired woman who practically radiated confidence and power.

“You actually made it,” Fiona said with a grin as soon as he was in normal-conversation range of her. It only took him a few steps thanks to his ‘fuckin’ giraffe legs’, as Sasha sometimes called them. “I’m impressed. Not to mention, Sasha owes me ten bucks now, so thanks for actually coming.”

“You made bets on whether or not I’d show up?” He wished he could say he was surprised, but given how long he’d known the two sisters, he really wasn’t. They liked to bet whenever they could. He should’ve expected them to bet on whether he could build up enough nerve to make it.

Fiona shrugged. “Sash didn’t think you had the balls.” She paused, realizing her trivial mistake. “Well, technically you don’t, but you know what I mean. Wait, that sounds worse. I-” She sighed in frustration at herself. “Oh my god, nevermind. Sorry for bringing it up.”

Rhys waved it off. “It’s fine, don’t worry.” That kinda talk would be uncomfortable around strangers who didn’t know any better, but she was his friend. She realized her slip-up and apologized, something that others (meaning _Hugo)_ would just keep talking like a rich asshole with fake hair who had no clue what he was talking about. He offered her his arm. “So, should we go in?”

She linked her arm around his. “Well, I’m not gonna stay out here. The others are already waiting for you.”

_Let's end your time to lay low_   
_Your knees a-bending, so_   
_It's time to get up and let go_   
_(You're gonna come undone)_

The inside was actually… not as bad as he’d been expecting. He was mentally preparing himself for a sweat-smelling club with music so loud sitting by a speaker too long would probably make your ears bleed. He’d thought it would play the same shitty pop music on the radio over and over again until you got tired of hearing any sickeningly-upbeat song.

Instead what he got was purple and blue lights contrasting nicely on the dancefloor, an elaborate patterned rug, and a comfortable cinnamon-like scent wafting through the air. The music was loud, of course, but it wasn’t unbearably so. It wasn’t enough to give him a headache without alcoholic assistance- a point in its favor.

“Rhys! Fi!” He barely heard the familiar voice over some mashup of two songs playing. To his surprise, the two actually fit pretty well together. Yvette, Vaughn, and Sasha were sitting at the dark polished-wood bar, Sasha looking at the two of them with a smile.

_Hey, mama, how's it going?_   
_Can't see your body moving_

Rhys sat on the bar stool closest to him, surprised at how the seats were actually comfortable. What kind of witchcraft was this and why hadn’t he come here sooner? Fiona unlinked her arm from his and moved to the stool at the end of the bar, next to her sister.

“So,” Vaughn was the first to speak up to the (much) taller man seated next to him. “What do you think of Sanctuary, Rhys?”

“Better than I thought it was gonna be, to be honest.” He replied with a shrug. “I was thinking it was gonna be worse, considering Sash ‘n Fi like it.”

Sasha rolled her eyes, trying to hide her slight smile. “Yeah, well fuck you too, Rhys.”

“No thanks.”

_Don't leave the party dying_   
_(They call it lonely digging)_

A raven-haired bartender emerging from the kitchen with a tray of 4 filled shot glasses got his attention. She slid them across the bar one by one to the other three, yet she stopped at him. “You’re Rhys, right?” He nodded, and she smiled warmly at him. “Here ya’ go, hon.” She slid the last glass across the smooth bar to him. “All your drinks for tonight are on the house. Happy birthday.”

His smile fell to a curious look as the bartender left to attend to the other customers. “They can do that? Give out free drinks?”

Fiona snickered at his confusion. “Of course not, dummy. Yvette’s paying for your drinks.”

“Consider it my birthday present to you,” Yvette piped up after downing her own shot. “Cause you need to get that stick outta your ass.”

_Your booty shaking, you know_   
_Your head has no right to say no_

Rhys hesitated for a moment, looking down at his drink with consideration. Was getting drunk at a bar full of strangers really a good idea? Usually he was the sober one, the mother hen who made sure the others didn’t accidentally get murdered by some dubious character.

The idea of letting go of his inhibitions for the night both thrilled him to the core and terrified him to the bone. Thrilled because it was new, and who knows what he might do. Terrified because _who knows what he might do._

He remembers someone once telling him, _‘If it excites and scares you at the same time, do it.’_

A terrible way to normally live your life, but maybe it was okay to let tonight be anything but ordinary.

_Tonight it's "ready, set, go"_

He picked up the shot glass from off the bar and downed it in one swig. It was tasteless and burned his throat going down, yet that burn in his throat was replaced a moment later by a warm and comfortable feeling in his stomach. “Vodka, really? _That’s_ the drink you thought I’d like?”

Yvette simply shrugged. “Well, you never drink. So I had to guess what you’d like.”

“I never said I didn’t like it, I’m just surprised is all.” He didn’t even notice the bartender taking the shot glass from off the counter.

“Sasha was gonna order you one of those fruity drinks,” Vaughn inputted. “Y’know, with the fancy umbrellas? She thought it’d be ‘more your style’.”

“Well joke’s on you, Sash.” He said before downing the shot given to him. The room seemed to grow a bit warmer. Not uncomfortably so, but more like cozily curled up by the fireplace while it’s snowing outside. “I actually unironically _like_ those types of drinks.”

“It’s your night, Rhys.” Fiona said, grin pointed at her sighing sister. “You can order whatever drink you want.”

“Just don’t try to kill my wallet,” Yvette added in. “I still have to pay rent for my apartment and if I don’t have enough, you’re paying for it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He turned his attention to the bartender coming around again. “Excuse me, do you serve Firehawks?” Even with his limited alcohol knowledge, he knew about the infamous Firehawk cocktail. He’d never had one himself, but he’d heard it was three things- hot, expensive and very strong.

“Yes,” She quirked up an eyebrow at him. “You sure you wanna order one, sweetheart? Just a small one might be enough to knock someone like you on your ass, no offense intended.”

“None taken.” The smile on his face was considerably easy to maintain. He didn’t even realize he still had it. “But yeah, I’m sure.” He pretended not to hear Yvette groan, ignoring the sound of her hitting her forehead on the sleek counter.

He knew he was probably going to regret this in the morning, but he couldn’t really find a liberty to care much.  
+  
 _Baby can you move it round the rhythm_  
 _So we can get with 'em,_

Jack sighed, staring almost wistfully at his two friends on the dancefloor. Janey looked like she was having the time of her life, her gaze almost never leaving Athena. The normally stoic and stiff as a board woman was actually pretty light on her feet with no qualms against Janey’s hand on her hip. Considering their close proximity and obvious bedroom eyes, he gave it 10 minutes tops before the two of them snuck off to somewhere private.

Being the only sober one out of all your friends seriously _sucked._ You had to watch all your friends having fun, being free without a care in the world. If he was lucky, none of them would end up blowing chunks on the rug of his new car. He still had the stain from when Wilhelm got sick on the drive back home.

“Still poutin’, Jack?” Nisha’s ever-so-familiar voice was slightly slurred, signs of inebriation almost indistinguishable unless you knew her well enough. And Jack knew her very well indeed. At least she was sober enough to slide into the booth’s seat opposite his.

_To the ground and get us a rock and roll round_   
_Just a downtown body body coming with a super-hottie_

“I’m not pouting, Nish.” He muttered stubbornly. “I’m…” He trailed off, looking for the right word. “This isn’t pouting.”

Nisha quirked an eyebrow up at him, her knowing smirk easygoing and practically effortless. “Then what’re ya’ doin’?”

_Watching people have fun while I’m practically fuckin’ stuck here,_ he wanted to say. But that definitely sounded like he was pouting. Then Nisha would probably poke more fun at his expense. “Staying sober, because someone has to drive you dumbasses home.”

_Let's go, yes, no, hell no_

To his surprise, Nisha relented without so much as a curious expression. “Don’ ever say I told ya’ this,” She spoke up after a long moment of kinda-awkward silence between the two. “But ya’ do realize you don’ need alcohol to have some fun, right?”

Jack stared at her in surprise. He clutched his chest with one hand in faux horror, back leaning to his seat. “Who are you and what have you done with the real Nisha Kadam?”

_Baby can you move it round the rhythm_   
_Cause you know we're living in the fast lane, speed up_   
_It ain't no game, just turn up all the beams when I come up on the scene_

Thankfully, that made her laugh. “Shut up, I’m serious.”

For a second he considered whether or not to make the most horrible joke available to him right now. Apparently she read him well, because she froze in her seat, realizing her mistake.

“Wait no, don’t-”

“Nice to meet ya’, serious-” He cracked a shit-eating grin at her expression. If looks could kill, he’s pretty sure his head would’ve already exploded by now. 

“I swear, if you finish that sentence, I’ll-”

“I’m Jack.”

Honestly, he probably deserved the punch he got. That was a terrible joke, but it was _so worth it_ to see how much it pissed Nisha off.

_Hey, brother, what you thinking?_   
_That good ol' sound is ringing_

“As I was _meaning to say,_ ” She continued, glare softened but still there. “Nothin’s stopping ya’ from going out and havin’ some fun.”

“Oh c’mon Nish,” He said with an eyeroll for added effect. One good thing about having a teenage daughter- you learned how to perfect rolling your eyes from their example. “You’re a bigger alcoholic than I am,” And that’s certainly _saying something._ “So don’t try to tell me that shit about ‘having fun while sober’ when _you’re_ hammered.”

_They don't know what they're missing_   
_(They call it lonely digging)_

“So what,” Her tone lacked humor now, brows furrowed. “You’re just gonna sit here and stare at everyone havin’ fun without you and wallow in self-pity? That’s your plan for the night?”

Jack opened his mouth to respond with a biting comeback, something to make her understand. Yet… he hated to say this about anyone, but she was _right._ He shut his mouth into a fine line, looking away from that smug look he knew she had on her face right now.

Instead, he let his gaze wander among the crowd gathered on the dance floor. Janey and Athena were nowhere to be seen, but that just gave him a chance to observe the strangers drunkenly dancing without a care in the world. Some (most, honestly) of them looked ridiculous, but they were all smiling and laughing while they moved clumsily to the rhythm.

They all looked stupid as hell, and they probably knew it, but they didn’t give a single damn.

His eyes moved from person to person, recognizing few faces in the far between. There wasn’t anything super special about most of them, just flushed faces and stupidly blissful smiles. It was random at first, yet he started to notice a pattern.

He’d look to one of the dancers, then back to a very specific stranger. He’d look away to someone else before Nisha noticed where he was looking, yet his gaze always found its way back to this stupid drunkard.

What was so special about this kid? His face was flushed and he was smiling and laughing with a significantly-shorter man with green-tinted glasses. He was practically a human beanstalk, towering easily over everyone else dancing alongside him. For someone clearly drunk off his ass, his movements were fluid; freely shifting and changing with anyone he was dancing with.

_Let's end your time to lay low_   
_Your knees a-bending, so_   
_It's time to get up and let go_

“Who are you looking at?” He’d only realized he had been staring for too long when he heard Nisha speak up curiously.

“No one, I’m just kinda… lookin’ around.” He managed to keep his tone calm and casual, hoping desperately that she wouldn’t catch onto his bullshit lie. “Those people look like idiots, huh?”

“Yeah,” He saw her nod and nearly sighed out in relief. That same relief dissipated into thin air as she kept searching through the constantly moving crowd of people. “But I know that look. You were looking at a _certain_ idiot. So who was it?”

_Hey, brother, nice and steady_

“What?” He asked incredulously, laughing without a single hint of nervousness, not at all. “Seriously, Nish, I-”

“Was it the cute tall one?” She interrupted, her expression telling him she already knew the answer to her question. “Y’know, the one with the messed up hair and giraffe legs?”

If he said no, she’d know he was lying. If he said yes, she’d know that he’d been eyeing some random drunk stranger up. What a lose-lose situation.

“It totally is, isn’t it?”

The two were silent for a moment, staring like they were playing some kind of mental ping pong game. And Nisha _knew_ she was winning.

He finally sighed, relenting a nod. “Okay, yeah, I might’ve been looking at him. Why?”

There it was- her signature shark tooth grin. The grin that meant she already had a plan.

He’d always hated that look. It usually meant a fun time for her, but a shitty time for him.

_Put down your drink, you ready_

Before he could argue against it, she grabbed his wrist and slid off her bench spot. She wrenched him up to his feet and practically dragged him over to the dance floor. “Nish, is this really-”

“Yup,” He could barely hear her voice or her emphasis on the ‘p’ over the drowning beat playing over the speakers. “Now c’mon! Don’t just stand there like an idiot! Start dancing! Talk to the leggy kid, whatever you wanna do!”

+

After the Firehawk, Rhys’ memory started getting blurred. It had a cinnamon taste, burning his throat and everything else on the way down. Sasha had practically dared him to drink the entire glass, and while he’d definitely regret taking her challenge later, he’d done it anyway. 

The five of them had stayed at the bar for a while, telling stories and laughing at things they probably wouldn’t have found funny in a different state of mind. It was liberating, in a way. He didn’t have to worry and fuss over his friends for once. It was a completely different change of pace from what he was used to and he actually didn’t mind very much.

He doesn’t really remember whether or not he pulled Vaughn to the dance floor or if Vaughn had led him there. Either way, the two of them had eventually convinced the girls to join them. Even Fiona joined in; having a bit of fun herself despite the fact she was sober.

Rhys didn’t know half of these people dancing close to him, but he had absolutely no qualms against a few of them getting closer. Guys, girls, he didn’t really care much. They were good company to press against for a song or two. Then he’d pull away to dance by one of his friends. Thankfully, nobody had tried anything he wasn’t comfortable with… yet. He had somewhat enough common sense to know that could change. Which was why he stuck close to Sasha and Fiona. He knew with certainty they’d knock anyone’s lights out if they messed with the sisters’ friends.

Another song, another random stranger pressed against. He couldn’t see the person’s face, but considering what he felt behind his back when it was pressed to his partner’s front it was either a) a muscular woman or b) a man. He was fine with either option honestly.

Rhys followed the style of the stranger, letting them take the lead and following along happily. He never really danced (he was usually terrible at it, honestly) yet it was wonderfully liberating right now. He didn’t really have to worry about looking terrible, because most of the people around him were people he’d never see again. It was a lot easier when you didn’t have to worry about judgement.

Somehow during the song, he’d turned around to face the partner who’d let him practically press himself on them.

_It's hard when things get messy_   
_(They call it lonely digging)_

And… _wow._ That was his immediate first thought at seeing the man’s face. It was just… _wow._

The other man’s face was the very definition of chiseled, a masterpiece of lines and fine angles. He radiated confidence, as if he knew how starstruck Rhys was and reveled in it. And those _eyes-_ they were the best part, honestly. They were green, with distinguishable splotches of blue stirred in there.

The smile on the stranger’s face looked like he wanted to eat Rhys alive, and right now he had absolutely nothing against that idea. Well, as long as it was in the way he was thinking of at least.

With that thought in mind, he got an idea. It was a horrible idea that he would’ve _never_ even seriously considered if he was sober.

Luckily for him, he really wasn’t sober. So against everything he’d usually advise, he cautiously closed the distance.

_Your booty shaking, you know_   
_Your head has no right to say no_

He allowed the stranger an opening, a window to decide whether or not to pull away. It was a dick move to just force someone into something, he could remember that much.

There wasn’t a single spoken word between the two, but Rhys guessed the sizable hands on his hip and on the back of his neck meant the other man wasn’t against the ongoing events. Though he’d initiated it, Rhys knew it wouldn’t be him in charge. And he was completely fine with that, fine with letting this complete stranger’s tongue probe at his lip in an unspoken question.

He’d already let it go this far, why not take it further?

_Tonight its "ready, set, go"_

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote jack saying a dad joke this is the highest point i'll ever achieve everyone go home  
> My tumblr: squishy--squish


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